The Weakest Wizard
by Kaelinacoop
Summary: In story format (so it's legal), we have a special edition Weakest Link quiz show, and the participants are all Hogwarts professors! Who will take the cash?
1. BANK!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. DEAL WITH IT.

            "Queue the theme music" came a voice from up above in the little magic roof dome. 

            "Five… Four… Three… Two… One"

            "Hello, I'm Anne Robinson, and welcome to today's special addition of the Weakest Link. All of today's contestants are directly from the staff of Hogwarts' School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It's time to find out whether these men and women are truly worthy to teach the next generation of sorcerers, or if they're as big a bunch of dunderheads I usually host for."

            Snape jumped forward, shouting, "Hey, that's my phrase!"

            "Shut up Snivellus."

            Ignoring the teacher who slunk back to his space in a sulky manner, Anne continued.

            "I can't be bothered to explain the rules because I'm a lazy git- Wait, did I say that aloud? Moving on, let's begin. The first round is about Hogwarts, time starts… now."

            "Question one, Dumbeldore, who was Hogwarts' most hated headmaster of all time?"

            "In this time of peril we must unite and hold hatred in our hearts for no-"

            "Oh shut up- WRONG ANSWER! It is Phineas Nigellus! Question two, Hagrid what colour are young unicorns"

            "I've always found Unicorns rather boring, 'cause they've no fangs see, but…"

            "WRONG ANSWER! In fact, it is gold.  Question three, Madam Hooch, which broomstick does the Irish Quidditch team ride?"

            "Firebolt!"

            "Finally…" It was hard not to notice a distinct sound of disgust in Anne's speech. "Question four, McGonnagal which of the Hogwarts staff is an animagus?

            "Well, Mrs Robinson, the answer to your question is, of course, me– "

            "WRONG ANSWER! The correct one would have been Professor M. McGonnagal."

            "Question five, Professor Moody-"

            "BANK!"

            "Sir, you have nothing to bank due to your colleagues' idiocy."

            Professor Moody yanked out his wand and waved it around threateningly. "I won't let your little mind tricks work on me, I'll bank whether whether you ruddy well like it or not! I maintain **CONSTANT VIGILANCE!**"

            Anne rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath that sounded distinctly like, "Oh great, another nutter. She then turned back to Mad-Eye. "Which dark wizard returned to power in the summer of 1995?"

            "You-Know-Who."

            Anne was about award them with their second correct answer, when she was interrupted by a screeching, rather red faced Professor Umbridge. "This is a horrible falsehood that has been spread by that abomination that is Albus Dumbledore and the wicked Harry Potter!"

            Dumbledore's smile vanished, in a rather annoyed voice, he said, "Now now, Doloras…"

            "Detentions! All of you will be writing lines in my office for the next three weeks!"

            "Moody, that was correct. Question six, Professor Flitwick… Wait, where is Flitwick? Has anyone seen him?"

            "Here!" squeaked an excited voice from behind the plaque with his name on it. "I'm down here!"

            "Where?"

            "Behind the sign! It's too tall!"

            "Right… well then… Professor Flitwck, what is the incantation used in levitation?"

            Jumping up and giving an excited squeak, he yelled out, "Wingardium Leviosa! And hello Mum, I'm on the muggle television!"

            "Correct. Not that your mother can see you, but, Professor Trelawney-"

            "BANK!"

            "Moody, it's not your turn."

            "I don't care! I will still maintain **CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"**

In a sarcastic drawl, Anne retorted, "What a pity, you're still out of time."

            Who will be voted off? Hang around to find out!


	2. On McGonagall's Authority

A/N: Yes, the chapters are a tad short, but that's because we're lazy gits. Anyway, on with the show…

Chapter Two

            "You have banked a remarkable, astounding, zilch, zip, nada, ze-"

            "I BANKED!! I RUDDY WELL BANKED!! I MAINTAINED CONSTANT VIGILANCE!!"

            "Shut _up_, Professor Moody!"

            For a moment Moody locked glowers with Anne Robinson, but eventually even the rather insane ex-auror quailed under the stare of the person voted the rudest woman in Britain.

            In a deadly hiss, she added, "_Never_ interrupt my insults. _Ever_."

            In response, Moody simply let out a whimper rather reminiscent of Peter Pettigrew. 

            "Very good. Now, who is raining on your parade? Assuming you can only pick one? Who is a few floors short a skyscraper?"

            "What's a skyscraper?" Hagrid cut in.

            "Never mind. Just write the names."

            You could feel the tension building, as well as the strings section on the corny background music, as everyone wrote out their chosen victim. You could see Hagrid sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he struggled to form tidy letters. Flitwick was hopping up and down, dotting his letters with every leap upwards to the stand, his marker clutched like a weapon. Snape was wearing one of his most slimey, evil grins, staring around at everyone, all but letting out a malicious cackle.

            "Okay, it is now time to find out who you think is the weakest wizard."

            "Umbridge," Dumbledore said firmly and  clearly, getting the ball rolling.

            "Umbridge," Hagrid agreed as he flipped around his board, a note of satisfaction evident in his voice.

            It continued around the circle, with Hooch, McGonnagal, Moody, Flitwick, Snape, and Trelawney.

            "Umbridge."

            "Umbridge."

            "Umbridge."

            "Umbridge."

            "Umbridge."

            "Umbridge."

            "Hagrid is clearly not an adequate asset to the Hogwarts teaching community. He often must resort to crude sign language in order-"

            "We get the point, shut up, woman. McGonnagal, why Umbridge?"

            McGonnagal pursed her lips, trying to keep the impish glee out of her eyes. "Although I try never to speak ill of a colleague, I believe Professor Umbridge failed to answer a single question correctly."

            "Do you think this could possibly be because she didn't have the opportunity to answer a single question?"

            "Ah, I'm afraid I may not have the _authority_ to answer such a question," the elderly transfiguration teacher replied diplomatically.

            Anne gave a non-comittal noise, before turning on the woman who was standing there with her mouth hanging open, totally aghast. "Well, Professor Umbridge, you are the weakest link, goodbye."

            "What?" She screeched, suddenly not only finding her vocal cords but putting them to full use. "How dare you?! Insolent beings! You can't do this to me! I am above you all! This is a conspiracy! I will not tolerate-"

            "GUARDS!" Anne bellowed over the din. "REMOVE THIS WOMAN!" Kicking and screaming, too large, burly trolls drug the woman off the stage.

            In the quiet room backstage, Dolores Umbridge was ranting and raving to the camera, threatening everything from sending dementors down on her peers to guaranteeing that Hogwarts would be closed permanently. The Tech Dude backstage took great pleasure in whispering into his speaker, "Don't even bother playing the tape," then flicking off the sound connection, leaving Umbridge in the fortunately padded room.


	3. The Importance of Losing Umbridge

Chapter Three

As the camera swung back around to face the group, Anne Robinson began the usual spiel. "Well, team. You have lost one player, and ten seconds has been deducted from the clock. The question is, will the release of the last bimbo lighten the load that seems to be weighing down your brains so desperately? Unlikely, but let's find out. We will begin with the strongest player from the last round; that is Madame Hooch. Let's play, The Weakest Wizard." The opening music blared angrily across the studio and the race began.

"Madame Hooch, what was the Chudley Cannons' original motto, before they changed it to 'Let's just cross our fingers and hope for the best.'?"

"We will conquer."

"Correct. Professor McGonagall, what are the ingredients in the Draught of Living Death?"

Snape narrowed his eyes indignantly that his subject had been delegated to someone else. Moody's magical eye spazamed suddenly in its socket, twirling around like a cow in a tornado, and then her began to hop slightly as he screamed, "Bank, woman, bank! Don't panic, you'll lose everything!"

Anne rounded her dark stare on Moody. "You will remain silent when it is not your turn, thank you. As a result, your team has forfeited the right to answer that question. Do not try me again, _Professor_."

Moody grumbled some choice curses, but then fell silent.

"Professor Moody-"

"Bank!"

"Shut _up_, you imbecile! This is your final warning! What is the muscle Gluteus Maximum more commonly known as?"

"That's your bloody ass, that is! Mind you, with the decline of elementary wand safety, one could-"

"Correct. Professor Flitwick, who was the wizard who infamously made a small error in a common spell and ended up illegally importing an American buffalo, which ended up crushing several of his ribs?"

"Oh… I know this…" He squeaked eagerly. "Oh, I always think more clearly when I'm sucking a Bertie Botts' Every Flavoured Bean…"

"Incorrect. The correct answer was, Edward Baruffio," snapped Anne, her voice incredulous at such a silly error.

"Oh, faddle."

"You should have banked, man! Maintain **CONSTANT VIGILANCE!**" Moody barked at Flitwick, who cowered back behind his sign.

"Alastor Moody, if you continue in this vein, I shall have you removed from our set, you snivelling, paranoid, ding-bat of an old man!" Anne practically yelled at the aging Auror. Moody was unable to respond, so overcome was he by rage. Anne, however, pivoted sharply with her stand to round on her next victim. "Mister Filch, what is the term for someone born into a wizarding family, but without magical ability?"

Filch stiffened instantly, clutching Mrs. Norris (Who he couldn't bare to leave behind in Scotland) closer to his chest protectively. "What are you trying to imply? What have people been telling you? I'm no squib-"

"Correct. Professor Snape-"

"Bank," he cut in silkily.

"Finally," Anne muttered. "What is the term for witches or wizards who are capable of turning into animals at will?"

Snape's face darkened, but he still spat out his answer venomously, "Anamagi."

"Professor Trelawney-"

"My inner eye has made it clear to me that it is necessary for me to bank the money that together, pitting out wits against what is unknown to many, have managed to amass. It is impressive, no doubt, that my sight remains unclouded, even in such a harsh and auraless area such as that in which we are now pres-"

"Your bank is noted, Trelawney. Who was the seeress who knew that Helen was to be the fall of Troy?"

"Cassandra."

"Correct. Professor Dumbledore, name one of Nicholas Flammel's two main occupations."

"Attending the opera."

"Correct. Professor Hagrid, what is one reason that a hippogriff would distrust a human being as it approaches?"

"Well, ye' see, ye' can't blink too much or else-"

"Correct. Madame Hooch-"

"Bank," the Flying mistress threw in, her anxiety alleviated.

"In 1864, what was-"

Anne, however, was unable to finish her question, as the music declared that that rounds' time had just run out. The contestants glanced around nervously; they knew what was to come.

One of their number was about to leave _forever_.


End file.
